


With Great Power

by TheGirlWithBrightEyes



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Fear, Fury, Lectures, Life lesson, Unspecified OC - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 14:17:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19975462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGirlWithBrightEyes/pseuds/TheGirlWithBrightEyes
Summary: A young man questions the Doctor's choice not to kill. The Doctor answers.





	With Great Power

**Author's Note:**

> A short story. A moment in time when the Doctor is trying to save a spaceship and it's crew.
> 
> An unspecified young man I dubbed Carl is questioning the Doctor's motives behind not wanting to kill. I wanted to explore this scenario. It was a fragment that just wanted to get out of my head and in print...
> 
> This story could be any Doctor, but I imagined Ten when I wrote it, hence the tag.

"Have you never killed anyone?" Carl whispers, his voice barely constrained by fury. He doesn't understand why the Doctor keeps trying to solve this the hard way when there is such an obvious, easy way out. He can only imagine it to be because of cowardice.

The Doctor halts in his tracks with his back still turned, his body stiffening as he stares in front of him with eyes that do not see. His tongue is restless in his mouth, tasting bitterness before he speaks. What else is there to say?

"Yes, I have," he says quietly, moving on with motions that are now less smooth and more erratic - carefully calculated still. His eyes dart around as he inspects and gather parts he might need, raking others down on the floor with a metallic rattle. Carl follows him, still clutching the detonator in his hand although it's been rendered useless by the Doctor's sonic screwdriver. He doesn't care. The Doctor must see reason, if he throws it away it cannot be reactivated.

He still hopes it will be.

"You have?" Carl presses on, sensing as much as seeing the Doctor's body language change.

"Yes," he answers again. "Too many." Carl stops, fury joined by confusion. He could understand a man who has never killed to hesitate, but this?

"Then why not them?" he cries, anger getting the better of him. "They're evil! They deserve-" he's cut off as the Doctor spins, his eyes wide and wild, his face almost white.

"Can you say who deserves to live and who deserves to die?" he almost hisses. "Huh? Can you?" Carl hesitates, this cold fury almost suffocating. He trembles, takes a step back and when he does, the Doctor advances. "I am old. Oh, I'm so old. I have seen more death than you could ever imagine. I have taken so many lives. And regretted every last one of them." His voice is barely a whisper at the end, his anger so great. Carl staggers, his knees buckling. He finds himself afraid and unable to speak. The Doctor takes another step, now so close they are face to face. "You would define power by the amount you can blow up in one go. Strength in how many you can kill. Leadership in how many you can command. But do you know what the greatest power of all is?"

At this, Carl sinks back, shrinking down against the wall. He licks his lips, then shakes his head nervously.

"Compassion," the Doctor says, so angry his eyes are black but he hasn't raised his voice. It's terrifying. "To forgive anyone. To give everyone a chance to better themselves. To always be prepared to sacrifice so that others may live. To have all that power - the strength of millions - and _not use it_. Oh I could blow them up. I could activate that device you so wanted to use. But answer me this: would you really want me to?"

Carl looks down at the detonator in his hand, his knuckles white from clutching it.

"Would you let that monster out? Will it really make you powerful?" the Doctor says, his voice softer, almost sad. "How would that make you any better than them?" Carl's heart sinks. A genocide for a genocide. An eye for an eye. He understands now.

"No..."he whispers, feeling tears press on. Guilt. Shame. "I would not..."He looks up, the Doctor silhouetted against the flickering lights above. Somewhere in the spaceship, something is making a low, clanging sound, reminding him why they are here in the first place.

They have a crew to save.

The Doctor nods then draws a breath through his nose, looking around as if shaking off a bad memory, before he holds out his hand. Carl takes it, although he doesn't feel he deserves it. The grip is strong. Secure. It's comforting.

"Now, drop that thing and help me out here. We are quickly running out of time," the Doctor says, already gathering up his parts and fetching a few more before he puts his sonic in his mouth, gathering a large coil of cable and runs.

Carl can't help himself, he follows. He'll always follow.


End file.
